


Love at the Edge of a Cliff

by stardustsroses



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, ACOTAR - Freeform, ACOWAR, Cassian x Nesta - Freeform, F/M, Mating Bond, Nessian - Freeform, Post-ACOFAS, a court of frost and starlight, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, acofas - Freeform, acomaf, cassian acotar, fluffy nessian, nesta archeron - Freeform, nesta x cassian - Freeform, plus angsty nessian, that's all i have to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: / post-acofas | different order of events* / As Cassian and Nesta prepare to start a family, they reminisce on their love, and how every tragedy led them to each other, and to that very moment.*meaning Nesta and Cassian never ended up training in the mountains after acofas.





	Love at the Edge of a Cliff

_before she fell_

 

            He was there.

            He was there for all the terrible, unforgiving moments.

            The moments where everything hurt and nothing could be set right. When she felt like the world might collapse in on itself and crash down onto her like a pile of bricks. The moments when there was only the sound of her own quiet sobs in an empty, small hallway, and nothing else. When she believed that there was no going back to herself. When she thought that everything and everyone, as well as her own self, kept pushing her into the cliff edge, and that there was no way to turn back around, and ignore that drop below.

            Cassian was there.      

            Sometimes it was all too much.

            It hurt too much to even breathe.

            And as much as you tell yourself – _you will get out of this, you will heal, you will live_ – you never truly let yourself believe it. Not really. Not at all.

            So, she sat in that hallway, her back against the wall.

            Nothing felt solid, nothing felt real.

            The seasons went by and she didn’t notice the chill go away and the flowers blooming. The cold was always there, inside her bones, carved deep inside her veins. It kept her forever frozen, though time quickly moved on.

            Sometimes there was a knock at her door, but she couldn’t be sure. She never bothered to check.

            Time passed and faded.

            And Nesta faded with it.

            But he was there.

            Cassian was there.

            Even if he was not standing in front of her, she knew he was. Always would be.

***

_after she fell_

 

            “Don’t you do it,” she warned, backing up against the wall.

            But he wouldn’t listen. Hell, he never did.

            He was upon her in a second, a flash of dark wings and hair, of tan skin and teasing smiles. His arms snaked around her in a breath-taking grip, and scooping her up as if she were merely made of feathers and not flesh and bone.

            The sound that left her throat did not seem to belong to her. At least her past self would not think so.

            But as Cassian ran his hands up and down her sides, pestering her with those skilled, torturing fingers, poking and agonizing her, making her squirm in his arms, Nesta realized that she did not really care at all.

            She laughed. Really _did_ laugh.

            The kind of laugh nobody else could get out of her. The kind of laugh that leaves you struggling for air, the kind of laugh that had her bending over in pain, the kind of laugh that had him chuckle alongside her.

            When he finally stopped, he took in her appearance. The curling hair over her face, half pinned at the back. The tears in her eyes, streaming down her too-rosy cheeks. The glint in those pools of blue. The crooked smile that had him wanting to get down on his knees in front of her. Her breathless whisper, “Don’t, please. No more.”

            Nesta Archeron had a lot of weak spots. And it was not his fault that Cassian had fingers prone to tickling her.

            In all honesty, he just lived for her laughter. And those rosy cheeks.

            So, he watched her, his smile turning into something close to tender. Loving. He took her hand, and Nesta’s laughter died down, as if she’d put herself in check. Though her smile didn’t disappear.

            It seldom did these days.

            Cassian sat on a nearby chair, slowly dragging her to him. Nesta stopped between his legs, her hand dropping to his shoulder.

            “Good morning to you, too,” Cassian murmured, that same mischievous glint in his eyes ever present as he took her in.

            “You call this a good morning greeting?”

            “How else am I supposed to greet you, Nesta Archeron?”

            He took her hand, entwined their fingers, and led it to his lips. One knuckle kissed. Then another. Another…

            “Not like that,” she gave him a pointed glance. “Good thing I did not have a knife close to me.”

            “Ah, but I quite enjoyed making you squirm, you see.”

            “I should make _you_ squirm.”

            “I believe I would rather enjoy that too, sweetheart,” Cassian presented her with smirk.

            Nesta rolled her eyes, and made herself pull away, if only to tease him right back. And indeed – his wings dropped slightly at the absence of her body close to his, and his face showed all the displeasure in the world.

            “I thought you were supposed to travel to the Summer Court with your brother today,” she said to him, attempting to fix her hair.

            He had half a mind not to let his hands run through those curls and just-

            “Azriel could do with a little alone time,” came his answer, although a bit distracted.

            Nesta’s face was still pink, and Cassian almost teased her about it, but she beat him to it: “You just wanted an excuse to come here.”

            Cassian crossed his arms, all smugness. “Am I supposed to lie and deny that statement? Am I supposed to act cool and indifferent and say that I just remembered to pass by and bring you flowers?”

            Nesta shook her head. “You have no such abilities. Plus, I have no need of flowers.”

            “You have need of _me_ , though.”

            “Presumptuous.”

            “Realistic.”

            Nesta eyed his intruding hand as it touched hers, pushing her closer to him again. Despite her imperial face, she let him.

            “Idiot,” she murmured.

            “Sweetheart,” he whispered, and leaned her in for a kiss.

            Nesta’s breath hitched the moment their lips touched. It was instinctive to wrap her arms around his neck and to melt against his scalding body. As it was for him to let his hands drag down her waist to her hips, and stay there, scrunching up her dress when his fingers pressed too hard on her skin.

            She deepened the kiss, opening up his mouth with hers. Let her tongue run over the inside of his lip, before she gently bit down on his lip, earning herself both a groan and a soft laugh in the same instant.

            Cassian then began to mark her face with kisses. Her cheeks, her jaw, her chin, up towards her browbone, her forehead, down her nose, around it, beneath her eyes and up on her eyelids. Soft, unhurried kisses that left her clinging to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the thin shirt.

            Fall had just begun, and the ruthless winds outside banged against the window of her apartment. But Cassian had no other clothes but the thin ones he was wearing. She guessed that when you’re carved from fire itself, it’s very unlikely to feel the chill.

            He pulled away, watching her face with those big, loving eyes.

            She unconsciously traced his cheek with her thumb, her hand cold against his skin. But she soon warmed up. She always did with him.

            “I wanted to see you,” he murmured softly. “Just see you.”

            Nesta said nothing; she did not need to. She touched her forehead to his, let her lips spread into a smile, and held on.

            Moments later, she pulled away, and said, “Have you eaten yet?”

            Cassian went very still. “No.”

            Nesta pushed away, making her way to the basket of fresh fruit on the counter. “Would you like something?”

            He didn’t respond.

            Nesta grabbed an apple, washed it, and then looked up when silence was all she received. “Cassian?”

            He was staring at her. “You’re offering me food?”

            She paused. “…yes?”

            “I…” he stopped then, looking away.

            Nesta bit into her apple. “What is it?”

            Then he blinked, realization dawning upon him. “Oh. _Oh_. You don’t know.”

            “Know what?” She frowned, forehead creasing.        

            Cassian chuckled softly under his breath, his seemingly sudden shock disappearing, and lifted himself up, walking to her. “You can’t offer me food, Nes.”

            “What, it’ll bind you to me?” She chuckled, clearly meant as sarcasm. “Is that myth true? Even amongst fae?” Nesta looked up when he didn’t respond. She widened her eyes. “Is _is_?”

            “In a way, yes,” he began, leaning against the counter. “I…” she’d never seen him shy, she realized. Never seen him divert his eyes so quickly away from her. But here he was – this male, who was relentless and fearless and fought endlessly for her, was as good as cowering in front of her now.

            “Well? Spit it out.”

            “It’s a tradition,” he said, waving a hand, eyes distant. “When a female offers her male food, it’s because she’s telling him that she’s accepting their mating bond.”

            Nesta went quiet.

            And Cassian looked up at her, hesitant. He continued, “Some pairs make a celebration out of it, when they’re both ready to accept what’s between them. It’s…well, I suppose it’s almost equivalent to a marriage, only…more permanent.”

            Nesta put down her apple, blinking up at him. “Oh,” was all she said.

            Cassian watched her carefully.

            “You looked as if you were going to pass out for a minute there,” she noted, no doubt attempting to ease the air.

            “Instincts,” he chuckled softly, looking down at his feet. “When you said it…I guess it triggered something in me. It woke what our species once was.”

            “Predators? Primitive animals?”

            “Well, yeah.”

            Nesta’s eyebrows furrowed together. “And why does it have to be the female?”

            Cassian smiled at her. “That’s a very good question.”

            “As I said – primitive,” Nesta said, biting into her apple once more.

            Cassian smiled wider. And then, “Does it bother you?”

            “What, exactly?”

            “This. All this,” he gestured vaguely.

            Nesta paused, because a part of her – the human part of her, it seemed, did not fully disappear after all – did find it overwhelming. But most overwhelming of all was that, as he spoke, she felt exactly what he was describing. Something predatory and primitive urging her to sink her claws into his heart. Claim him as hers.

            She finally said, “No.”

            Kissed him on the cheek once, and went about her day.

            Cassian watched her walk away, his hand unconsciously going to his cheek, touching the spot she’d kissed. He could not rid himself of the stupid smile on his face.

***

_before she fell_

            The world was full of color once.

            Nesta remembered it – ball gowns and marbled stairs, skirts covered with white and red and pink and orange and black lace getting caught in the rose vines that grew and choked the pillars on each side of the room. The green grass beneath her feet, tickling her skin as she ran and ran and ran and never stopped. The cloudless skies of deep blue that turned into shades of purple and began to mix with yellow and orange.

            Until the skies looked as if they were covered in fire.

            She’d loved that time of day best. When the whole world was flames reflecting on water. She could not get enough of it.

            Now everything was grey.

            And there was nothing.

            Only a cliff where she sat, and rocks at the bottom.

***

_after she fell_

 

            She sat by the window, an ignored book in her lap.

            It was true what they said – the Night Court did have the most beautiful nights she’d ever witnessed.

            But twilight – that was absolutely breathtaking.

            She had her chin propped up in one hand, and her eyes traced the mountains on each side of the territory, as if guarding Velaris. The hilltops hid the sun, but she could still feel its warmth. It had laid by her all night and day long.

            The sun now stirred behind her.

            He groaned, searching for her, not pleased to find her missing and the bed empty. Nesta smiled to herself as she heard him sit up on the bed and put on his trousers, ready to look for her-

            When he turned and saw her.

            Her back was to him, but she could hear the moment when his breath stilled, his heart too. Nesta would never tire of that, she realized in that one second. She would never get tired of having this effect on him.

            Cassian walked to her, gently touched her shoulders when he reached her. Leaning in, she felt his lips at the crown of her head, and Nesta closed her eyes as he breathed her in.

            “What time is it?” He asked, voice groggy from sleep.

            “Almost night,” she told him, opening her eyes and leaning back her head to stare at him. “You slept the whole day.”

            “You kept me awake all night,” he grinned.

            Nesta hid her smile and the blush of her cheeks as Cassian sat by her.

            “You okay?”

            Nesta watched him as Cassian touched her hand. There was a seriousness to him now, a quite sincerity dawning on him as he took her in. She knew that look. She’d seen it so many times in the past.

            “I’m okay,” she assured him.

            It was true, though sometimes she was not alright.

            Sometimes she found herself staring at him and believing that she was not worth his smile, his time. Sometimes her mind switched and she felt like she was watching herself and him, feeling as if she was staring through a hazy window at her own self, playing a lie.

            _It’s not a lie._

“Nes,” he said quietly. A question.

            “I’m fine,” she insisted.

            “Come here, sweetheart.”

            Cassian gently pulled her into him, her back against his chest. He rested his chin on top of her shoulder, his arms around her. Her sun, warming her up.

            “Loneliness isn’t the answer,” he said.

            “I know,” she said quietly.

            “Then what’s wrong?”

            She couldn’t begin to explain, though she knew he would understand. Her brain was a scattered, cloud-filled sky. Uneven patterns of clouds everywhere, making no sense at all. Sometimes it was so grey.

            Nesta leaned back into him. “Just hold me.”

            “Come back to bed,” he left a kiss on her shoulder.

            His shirt was too big on her. She was cold.

            Nesta turned her head slightly, watching his eyes. And Cassian leaned in, claiming her lips in one soft kiss.

            It did not last very long. Seconds after, Nesta was turning in his arms, climbing into his lap, and he was lifting her. Before she could process anything, her back had touched the mattress, and she was beneath him, and he was kissing her. Everywhere.

            Her sun, always ready to shine whenever the skies threatened to rain down on her.

***

_before she fell_

 

“Nesta. Nesta, please.”            

_Leave. Leave. Leave._

“Nesta, let me in. I can’t…” he broke down, his fist stilling on the door. There was a shaking breath, and then nothing.

Nesta kept staring at that grey sky, and did not bother to open the door.

When she opened it, days later, he was sitting on her doorstep.

She’d almost ran back inside in that same instant that he lifted himself up.

It was raining. Pouring. He was drenched.

“Please,” he murmured.

“Leave,” she whispered.

She hadn’t used her voice in weeks, she could barely speak above a whisper.

“I can’t,” he brokenly said, spitting rain as he did.

“Find a way,” she said, barging past him into the streets beyond.

“Where are you going?” Cassian asked, exasperated. “Nesta-!”

One second in the rain was all it took to drench her too. Her hair clung to her forehead as she walked. She didn’t care. Couldn’t begin to care.

Nesta barely felt the rain on her skin. Even though spring rains were icy. She was ice herself.

Cassian touched her hand, and yanked her back.

It was almost too tempting to fall into his arms. To push him away again.

She did neither. Nesta stared up at him, hard as stone.

“Please just give me a chance to speak,” he said to her.

Silence.

Cassian closed his eyes, and then he opened them. He said, “I have seen how much pain you’ve endured, Nesta. I have seen the trauma, and the hurt, and the guilt, and the disappointment. I have seen the _anger_. I was angry too. I was furious at you. I blamed you for my own pain. It was a mistake, and I shouldn’t have left. I never should have left you that night.”

Winter Solstice. He had a box to give her. A box she’d seen him throw into the Sidra.

Nesta shivered against her will, and watched him, unable to say a word.

“I want to be here. If you will talk to me, I will listen. If you won’t, then I will wait, until you wish to. I can’t part with you, Nesta. No matter what you tell me, no matter how angry you are, you cannot make me not care.”

He should’ve turned his back on her. Everybody had.

“Go-“

“Don’t tell me to go home, you _are_ my home.”

It hit her like a slap in the face. And, apparently, it was the same for him, because in the same instant the words left his mouth, Cassian swallowed, eyes wide.

Her hand was shaking in his.

“Please,” he said. “Let me in.”

Nesta blinked.

He held her hand to his chest, and within she felt the warmth, the life, beating inside him. He was as warm as the sun, despite the rain. He’d waited days in that doorstep. He’d wait a lifetime, if she asked him to.

In the end, Nesta said, emotionless. “Fine.”

And she’d found herself in front of the fireplace he lit, a blanket around her shoulders, a cup of tea in her hands.

Cassian watched her in silent, the fire crackling between them.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, “that it got this far.”

“I’m sorry too,” she said, so low he almost did not hear her.

She had no other words for him.

So Nesta stayed on the floor, the fire kissing her cheeks, and let him stay. He’d stayed for days.

Sometimes they talked, and sometimes Cassian was silent, watching her.

As the days went by, she talked more and more.

She’d told him to pick up his fucking blanket off the floor, Cassian, this isn’t a hotel, and he’d smiled as wide as the mountains outside.

Nesta simply stared at him, watching that stupid smile grow and grow. It unnerved her so, so much, that she’d spat, “What?”

He said, “Welcome back.”

And Nesta stilled herself.

The mild annoyance was not there before.

She was not used to feeling such a thing anymore.

She’d looked up at him, and realized Cassian had managed to make her _feel_ – for the first time in months.

She’d ignored him, of course, and Cassian had taken that as a good sign, as well.

So he persisted.

He angered her to no end.

Made her fume, made her see red in front of her, made her teeth clench. He teased her, sneered at her, made every possible remark to make her react to him.

In the end, he found himself ducking his head because of a flying lamp.

And still – he’d grinned wide.

Because Nesta Archeron stood in front of him, fire and steel, pointing a threatening finger his way, calling him by every foul, colorful name she could think of.

She wouldn’t heal in days. No. But it was a step forward. It was a path towards healing. And that was all he wanted.

“Come to the mountains with me tomorrow.”

“No.”

Cassian swallowed down the knot at his throat, reached out a tentative, hopeful hand. “Come to the mountains with me tomorrow.”

And for all her anger at him, Nesta seemed to shrink away from that touch. “Why.” A demanding question. Defensive, too.

“Because,” Cassian said. “Because you want to.”

“Why would I ever want-”

            “What else do you have to do?” He shrugged. “Stay here by the fire and watch the world move on while you stay frozen in time?”

            Nesta scrunched her nose. “You have no idea what I do or do not do-“

            “I do, actually,” Cassian told her. “So it’s either this, or coming with me.”

            Nesta scoffed, crossing her arms. But she said nothing. She had no energy to fight battles these days, as tempting as they were.

            Cassian smiled, his eyes softening. “Come with me, please. I have something to show you.”

            Nesta looked away.

            “I’ll come pick you up at dawn,” he said, touching her hand.

            Which she immediately pushed away from his grip.

            Cassian simply gave her another smile. “Try not to throw a lamp at the back of my head when I leave. Not that you can aim.”

            “Don’t test me,” she said to him. “I know what you’re doing.”

            “And what am I doing, Nesta?” he asked her, close, his hand touching the wall beside her head.

            She instinctively backed away from him, though her chin held high. Still.

            “What exactly am I doing?” he asked again, cocking his head to the side. “Hum?”

            She pushed at his shoulders, and pushed past him. “Leave.”

            He shot her a smirk over his shoulder, and strode to the door. “Tomorrow, at dawn.”

            She almost spat something his way, but in the end she watched the door close behind him and could find nothing else to say.

            So that was that.

            The next day, at dawn, he was there. As he always was.

***

_after she fell_

            He was on his knees.

            The sky was just turning dark, those fiery oranges displayed above them, pushing away the rain clouds.

            And he was on his knees.

            It had been sudden. They’d been walking hand in hand through the dense forest, the winter snow covering the ground in a thin white carpet, the branches of the trees matching perfectly.

            She’d been laughing about something ridiculous he’d said, something she no longer remembered, when they’d crossed the threshold of trees and had been standing at the edge of the cliff.

            Nesta had stopped, breathing in the icy air, the pine trees, the winter roses. She remembered the first time he’d taken her here as she’d opened her eyes-

            And then saw him on his knees.

            “I have something to tell you,” he grinned, and took her hand, all soft eyes and hopeful touches. “Something you’ve probably known for a while.”

            Nesta’s heart was an avalanche. She knew what he was about to tell her, and it still shocked her because-

            Because what were the odds?

            Her smile felt silly and ridiculous on her face, but as he spoke, she could not contain herself.

            “I love you,” he murmured. “And you’re my mate.”

            She’d known. Of course she’d known.

            Nesta believed that her very bones had felt it the moment she’d met his eyes, for the very first time. Her soul had been his, and his had been hers, since the beginning of time. So she knew.

            She shook her head at him, her smile growing.

            “You’re my mate,” he whispered, as if it was the first time he was saying the words out loud.

            “Yes,” she murmured, touching the side of his face with her free hand.

            “I meant what I said. I told you that we’d have time. And now that we do, I want you. I want you, Nesta. I want the good and the bad. I want the days when we can barely stand each other and the days when we can barely keep our hands off one another.”

            She chuckled – it was slightly hysterical, but she had no idea how to control it. Gods. Gods. What were the odds? Really.

            “Are you attempting to propose to me?”

            “Feyre was very vague when she described mortal marriage proposals.”

            “Get up,” she tugged at his hand, and watched him as he came into his full height.

            First, she kissed him.

            Second, she smiled at him.

            And third, she said, “I don’t need a marriage proposal.”

            “Then what?” He said. “Tell me. You’ll have it all.”

            Nesta wrapped his arms around her waist, urging him to pull her closer. When he did, she whispered in his ear what it was that she wanted.

            Cassian stared down at her.

            “Oh?”

            She nodded. “Just you and me.”

            “You want a house of our own?” He smiled, as if not believing. “Truly?”

            “I guess I grew fond of you,” she murmured to him.

            And pulled him down for another kiss. And another. Another…

            “Let’s go home,” she said to him.

            They did not take long.

            Cassian was distracted with his lips glued to her neck as they barged into the small apartment, too distracted to smell food.

            And Nesta did have to find any hidden strength inside herself to peel her body away from his, for long enough to say. “Eyes closed.”

            He was dazed with desire, so he rasped out, “No-“

            “I have a surprise of my own,” she said.

            Cassian closed his eyes, rather grumpily.

            She led him to the kitchen.

            And Nesta knew that he caught the scent. He caught the change in her. He understood what this was, what all those terrible moments they’d both gone through had led up to.

            But he remained still, one of her hands over his eyes.

            She sat him down.

            And before she took her hand away, Nesta kissed him on the lips, just once. Tender, and slow, and sweet, making him sigh and lean in for more.

            She dropped her hand.

            Cassian stared at his favorite dish on the table in front of him.

            Nesta murmured softly, “I…well, you have a mate that cannot cook, and will most likely never master it. So I had to ask Elain for help. Does it still count?”

            Cassian swallowed down the turmoil of emotions bubbling through him, and pulled his mate onto his leg, wrapping his arms around her frame.

            “You did this for me?” He asked.

            “Yes,” she breathed.

            He kissed her.

            Nesta found herself touching his cheeks, bringing him closer. And she found herself not at all afraid as he pulled away and looked into her eyes. Nor as she said, “I love you. I wish to never part from you ever again.”

            Cassian had tears in his eyes.

            “Oh, no,” she breathed, widening her eyes slightly, reaching with her thumb to wipe at his eyes. Every instinct in her focused on that tear, the sadness there, wanting to shield him from whatever he was feeling. “Did I do something wrong?”

            “You did everything right, sweetheart.”

            “Are you…happy?”

            He touched his nose to hers, pressing his lips to hers briefly. “Radiant.”

            Nesta had a smile on her lips.

            “You planned this,” he said, chuckling softly. “On the same day that I…” he trailed off.

            What were the odds, indeed.

            Nesta nodded. “I didn’t know you were going to try and get me to marry you, I swear it.”

            “You still haven’t given me an answer,” he said to her.

            Nesta smiled, and gestured at the food. “You haven’t, either.”

            Cassian breathed in, as if composing himself.

            Then he dug in.

            She sat there on his leg, watching him finish every mouthful.

            Not a single nerve itching at her. Not an ounce of fear.

            Just-

            Just plain joy.

            Her mate, accepting her. And she – accepting him right back.

            When he finished, that tug deep inside her seemed to yank at her heart as those eyes turned towards her, seeking answers.

            Nesta touched his cheeks, and only to him, she murmured, “Yes.”

***

_before she fell_

 

            When Cassian took her in his arms that early morning, Nesta felt every inch of her body go taut. She wanted to resist it. She wanted to let herself go.

            And so, contradicted and begrudgingly, she let him fly them over to the top of the twin mountains that surrounded Velaris.

            It was a strange feeling being held after so long. After having shut herself from everyone, from him, and not allowing herself to feel any kind of warmth. But he-

            Cassian pushed her closer to his chest, as if wanting to shield her from the cutting wind. It was not raining, but the skies were still grey.

            They touched down on the edge of the cliff, and Cassian gently placed her on the ground. Nesta felt dizzy with exhilaration, having been so close to him. She wanted nothing more than to glue herself to him once again, to feel his chest press against hers.

            “What do you want to show me?” She asked, voice flat.

            He sat on a flat rock, pushing away the ice, and patted the place next to him. Nesta rolled her eyes, bit her tongue, and with a sigh sat down next to him. It was instinctive to want to draw herself nearer, to let her head rest on his shoulder, but she did none of that. Instead, she clutched her hands on her lap, and watched the edge in front of her.

            “I wanted to tell you a story.”

            “You brought me here to tell me a story?”

            “Yes,” he said, wings folding behind him. “Do you want to hear it?”

            Not a lot of people had asked her what she wanted in a long time.

            Again, slightly begrudgingly, Nesta shrugged, then nodded.

            “I remember certain things about my mother,” Cassian began to say. He watched the sun rise above the line of trees in the distance, his eyes narrowed, his voice soft. Smoke filled the air as he spoke. “Maybe they were imagined, or dreamt, I am not sure. I was so little when they took me away from her. But everytime I try to picture her, I see green eyes, like forests. She was born in those very mountains,” he pointed. “And gave birth to me there, too. My father, as you can imagine, did not bother to meet his child.”

            Nesta stayed quiet, watching him.

            Cassian said, “She used to sing to me. A sad little song, maybe the only one she knew, but she had a lovely voice. Sometimes I hear it. I heard it, loud and clear, during that last battle, when I was reaching for you. I heard her. It was as if she was urging me, and you, to live.”

            Nesta’s heart clenched, hurting, hurting so bad she almost doubled over in pain. She held her breath, feeling herself unsteady, but held on, listening.

            “I think she had curly hair, too,” he turned his face to her, watching the curls framing Nesta’s face. “Tight ringlets. She smiled at me a lot.”

            “Why are you telling me this,” Nesta whispered.

            Cassian held out a hand, and waited.

            Nesta watched it, feeling herself grow very, very small. When she didn’t have enough courage to grab his hand, Cassian slid his fingers over hers, slow at first, as if asking for permission, and then, when she did not pull away, he held her hand.

            He continued, “You can imagine how she ended up. A laundress with a bastard child with no important name to her.”

            “Did they kill her?” Nesta asked.

            Slowly, he nodded. “And threw me in a war camp the moment I could walk. I can still feel myself being ripped out of her arms sometimes. The feeling of clinging to her and watching her cry for me. It’s always there.”

            A long pause, in which none of them spoke. Somehow this was more intimate than any kiss they’d shared, any promises given in a bloody battlefield.

            He was baring himself to her.

            Nesta wanted to pull her hand away. She wanted to cling to him harder.

            Cassian said, “The only thing I have of her is my name.”

            “I’m…sorry,” Nesta said.

            Cassian shook his head, no tears in his eyes. Nesta had no doubt that he’d cried his fair share. He simply kept her hand close to him, his fingers entwined with hers.

            “I still don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you telling me this?”

            But she did – she did understand. She just wanted him to say it. She wanted her brain to process it. She wanted his words to make her feel something, to take her out of this dark place she’d put herself in.

            “I’m telling you,” Cassian said, “so you can see that I, too, have lost someone I care for, the one I loved most, and the one that loved me most.”

            Nesta retracted her hand from his. “Just to remind me that I have no right to feel the way I feel?”

            She hated the bitterness in her voice.

            Cassian softly said, “No. Just so you can see that I understand that pain, and I understand that grief, and I know what it’s like to feel alone. I want you to know that I understand, Nesta. I understand.”

            Her eyes wanted to fill with tears, but Nesta was quick to blink them back. “It’s different. You were your mother’s joy. Something terrible happened to you. I _chose_ to push him away. I _chose_ to hate him. I-“

            She stopped herself, feeling her body shake with tremors.

            Cassian touched her forearms gently, settling her. “No, sweetheart.”

            She tried to shake him off, but there was no strength in it. So Cassian pulled her into his chest. Nesta didn’t cry. She wanted to be angry, she wanted the world to collapse at her feet. And yet, when he wrapped his arms around her, and she felt that understanding-

            Nesta rested her chin on his shoulder, and let him hold her.

            She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth sweeping through her, and wanting, desperately wanting, to feel that for the rest of her life. However long that might be.

            “You are allowed to feel this,” he said to her, so gently. “You are allowed to be angry and sad and guilty. But you are not allowed to destroy yourself.”

            She pulled away, and stared at him.

            Cassian said, “I will not let you destroy yourself, Nesta.”

            She was weak, and she knew it, and that’s why she’d touched her lips to his. She should’ve never done it, she thought at the time. She should’ve pushed away and walked away and-

            But she hadn’t. She’d stayed, because somehow her weakness was also her strength, and they were the same person. Cassian touched her cheek gently, not being able to contain the soft smile that played on his lips at her gesture.

            Nesta sniffed, pulling away. She stared at the ground.

            “It’s not your job to heal me.”

            “No,” he said. “It’s yours. But I’m allowed to help, aren’t I?”

            “As my lover?”

            “As anything you want,” he said. “Anything you want me to be.”

            She paused, and finally looked up at him. The wind blew the long strands over his eyes, and it was instinctive to push them away, and out of his face.

            Cassian kissed her hand gently. “It will not be tomorrow, or the day after, or two weeks from now. It will not be in a month, and maybe not in a year. But there will come a time when you will feel happy again, Nesta. And when you do, I will be there. I’ll always be there, as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

            “Presuming I want you now.”

            A grin greeted her then, and Cassian touched her chin, giving her a look. “You’re the one who kissed me just now, sweetheart. I’d say that’s you wanting me. But I do appreciate your attempt at humor.”

            She pushed his hand away, suddenly annoyed.

            “There,” he smiled. “That scowl. So scary.”

            “Fuck you.”

            “I bet you want that too.”

            She smacked his arm, but it had no strength in it. Wanting to hide her smile, Nesta looked to the trees, and sighed. “I’ll never be what you want.”

            “You’re already all I want,” he said.

            “You’re delusional,” she accused.

            Cassian nodded. “Completely. Aren’t I?”

            She looked at him, eyes narrowed. But he was staring at that cliff edge, his eyes distant.

            She watched his profile intently.

            Cassian murmured, “You’re not afraid of the fall, Nes.”

            “What?”

            He looked at her. “We’re at the edge of a cliff, and you are not at all afraid of the fall,” he touched a piece of hair that fell over her face, an unruly curl that always seemed to sit the wrong way, and tucked it behind her ear. His warm hand stayed on her face, and he was almost too dazed to speak, delighted at the fact that she was allowing him to touch her like this, and _welcoming_ it. “You’re not afraid of falling – you’re afraid that you’re going to be alone at the end of that fall.”

            Parts of her heart began to mend just at that smile he gave her. “Can’t you see it, Nes?”

            She leaned against his touch, the palm of his hand warm against her cheek, betraying everything she thought she was. She didn’t care. Didn’t care.

            “Can’t you see it?” He murmured, leaning in. “I’m already there to catch you.”

***

_after she fell_

 

            The storm was raging outside, and Nesta was frowning at the windows, growing worried by the minute.

            The winds were too harsh, and he’d flown to the mountains today.

            Their new home didn’t stray far from the center of Velaris, so it would not take him long to arrive. She knew he was cautious. For gods’ sake, he was a bred warrior-

            Still.

            When it came to him, the instincts were difficult to stifle.

            As if she summoned him, a very drenched Cassian walked through their front door, shaking his head like a dog. He folded his wings behind him, but before he shook them a few times, the water slipping right off.

            Nesta looked at the messy floor and raised her eyebrows at him.

            Cassian did too. “Ah, Mother’s tits,” he said. “I’ll clean that up-“

            “I’ve drawn you a bath,” Nesta smiled, a knowing shake of her head following the words. “Go on.”

            “Join me.”

            “I’m busy,” she gestured to her book.

            “Surely not too busy for your mate,” he said, walking to her.

            But Nesta held up a hand to him, stopping him in place. “You’ll get water and mud all over our rug. Bath. Now.”

            He made a show of pouting and grumbling under his breath as he made his way upstairs, and all the while Nesta watched him, a secret smile on her face.

            She sighed softly then, her body finally resting, her mind calming, now that her mate was home.

            When Cassian came out of the bath, she was waiting for him in their bedroom. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and Nesta was not in the business to tell her mate to put clothes on.

            “How did it go?” She asked him, but barely had time to finish her question when he smacked a kiss onto her lips.

            She pushed him away before he could cut her breath off and said, “Impatient, are we?”

            “After not being able to kiss you for a whole day, you might say I am, yes.”

            Nesta smiled at him, pecking his lips. “So?”

            “Just a check up on the clans,” Cassian said. “Everything seemed to be in order.”   

            “I went to the human world today.”

            Cassian raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know Rhys wanted to send you.”

            “He did,” Nesta said. “Just to oversee the situation with the Queens. They’re all as silent as snakes.”

            “What about our spies?”

            “Your spies are not your emissaries,” Nesta said. “I am.”

            “Our spies are not in _your_ condition.”

            Nesta rolled her eyes, huffing. “Please, Cassian. I’m pregnant, not an infant.”

            “Still,” he grumbled. “You shouldn’t be-“

            Nesta raised a dangerous eyebrow. “Don’t tell me what I should and should not be doing.”

            Cassian hung his head. “Sweetheart, I know that it’s your body, and that you know what you’re doing, but maybe you-“

            She put a finger to his lips. “If you want to touch me tonight, choose your words wisely.”   

            Cassian sighed, and kissed her finger. “You know best.”                  

            She smirked, triumphant. “Plus, I’m barely showing,” she said.

            And it was true.

            A small bump could be felt when Cassian gently traced the outside of her stomach over her night shirt, but to any unknowing eye, it would go undetected.

            It had been a shock, a total surprise, when they’d found out. Cassian had fallen on his knees, crying with joy. Nesta, on the other hand, had not believed it, though everything had pointed to it. In the end, she’d found herself joining Cassian in his happiness.

            A mother. She would be a mother.

            And despite everything she’d previously thought of herself, as Nesta watched Cassian trace that small bump with a quiet, loving smile on his face, she’d realized that there was nothing in the world she could want more than this. Even if they’d been mated for only two years. Despite the fear, the nervousness of the unknown…

            This was where she was meant to be. Both of them.

            “I just want to protect my mate and my child,” he said, pushing her down onto the bed, slowly stripping her of her clothes. “Is that too much to ask?”

            Nesta found herself giggling when he pestered playful kisses all over. Cassian smiled into every kiss, and then looked up at her. “I know I’m being an exaggerating ass.”

            “You are,” she confirmed.

            “I can’t help it,” he cringed.

            Nesta smiled, touching his face. “It’s alright. An hour ago, I was debating going out and looking for you.”            

            “D’aw,” Cassian crooned. “Look at you, loving me.”

            She shook her head. “Idiot.”

            “Sweetheart,” he smiled, and kissed her gently.

            But soon enough, his mate had other ideas of how they should spend their night.

***

_before she fell_

 

            He’d ended up on her bed.

            Weeks later, during a night when they’d both lost control over one another, Nesta had pulled him inside, and let herself ignore all those angry thoughts running through her mind.

            _You don’t deserve this._

And simply let herself go.

            It was an unleashing.

            She had never let herself imagine what opening her heart would feel like. What having him utterly bare and as vulnerable as her, maybe even more vulnerable, in front of her, would do to her.

            But it was everything.

            It was everything and more.

            She’d woken up in his arms when the sun was already high in the skies. She knew he was awake, and that he’d been awake for a while by the pattern of his breathing, but Cassian did not move, and neither did she.

            She didn’t want this to end. Never.

            Cassian, at feeling her awake, gently squeezed her against him, his embrace still warm. Her leg was wrapped around his waist, and even though she was cramping all over, there was no way she was pulling away.

            They traded lazy, slow kisses that morning, engrossed in each other. There was no place to be but in each other’s arms.

            Cassian pulled away, breathing her in. He suddenly murmured, “Do you remember, last Solstice, the box I was supposed to give you?”

            “The one I didn’t accept.”

            He nodded.

            Nesta bit her lip, and his attention went straight to that small gesture.

            “What?” He asked.

            “I…I have it,” she told him, unsure of herself.

            Cassian blinked, surprise written in all his features. “You…have it? How? I threw it into the-“

            “Sidra, I know,” Nesta said. “I saw you.”

            Cassian waited for an explanation, and Nesta hesitated before unwrapping herself off him, and reaching for her bedside drawer. Inside, she took out the box and handed it to him.

            “You went to get it?” Cassian murmured in awe, opening it. “Why?”

            Nesta was silent for a while, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Why do you think.”

            Cassian looked up at her.

            “I never thanked you,” she said. “And it was wrong for me to keep it after…” she trailed off, and then sighed. “If you still want me to keep it-“

            “It’s yours, Nes.”

            She looked up at him.

            “It’s always been yours.”

            She knew he wasn’t just talking about the present.

            Nesta leaned in as a reflex, touching her lips to his.

            Slowly, she pulled away, and said, “Thank you.” And then, looking at the box again: “But…what is it? I didn’t understand.”

            Cassian paused, and gave her a smile. “Oh, this is sure to freak you out.”

            Her attention quirked up at his sudden amusement. “What?”

            She had been smiling an awful lot. It was suddenly hard to remember how to do it again, but his smile brought happiness to her face as quick as a snap of fingers.

            Cassian took the box, and took out the red gem inside. It was something close to jewelry, she knew, but it was simply a round, red gem with a pin in the back. Something she’d never seen before.

            “This is a syphon,” he said to her.

            She blinked. “Like yours?”

            “Yes,” he said. “They’re of the same material. All powerful Illyrians have syphons, as a way to distribute our power evenly. To safeguard it, if you will.”

            Nesta watched him carefully as he picked the syphon up, and it gleamed in the mid-morning light.

            “In Illyria, it’s tradition for warriors to forge a syphon from their already existing ones, to give to their females,” he looked at her, his eyes telling her lovely things. “It’s a protection charm, you see, since our power still runs through it. So when the males go to battle, they will be assured that their most precious one is safe, and with a piece of them left behind.”

            Nesta had no words.

            No words at all.

            All she had said to him that night-

            Cassian suddenly smiled. “Told you it would freak you out.”

            “You chose to give this to me?”

            A part of him in her hands. He’d always been here with her. Always.

            Cassian’s smile softened, his heart beating in time with hers. “Yes.”

            “Cassian, I don’t…this is-“

            “I love you,” he murmured.

            She widened her eyes, staring at him.

            But there was no regret or fear in his eyes as he took her hand. “I love you. You’ve known this for a long time. I’ve loved you in that battlefield, Nesta, when I promised to find you in whatever alternative life we might find ourselves in, and I loved you after. Until this very moment. And I know I will love you from hereafter.”

            She stared at the syphon he placed on her hands, and wrapped her fingers around it.

            He said, “You don’t have to say anything. My heart is yours, my power is yours, my body is yours, as much as they are mine. They always were, sweetheart.”

            He rested his head back onto the pillow, watching her.

            Nesta’s mouth was dry.

            Her heart was not made to carry this amount of love, and yet-

            And yet it did.

            She whispered to him, “How do I wear it?”

            Cassian’s smile was the loveliest thing she’d ever seen.

            “This,” he touched the pin on the back of the red jewel. “Lets you pin it to whatever clothes you see fit. You will feel its power. It will bend to your will. It will know you like it knows me.”

            “How?” She asked.

            Cassian hesitated.

            He touched her hand, led it to his mouth. He softly said, “Because you are part of me.”

            And now he’d given her a part of him.

            All of him.

            Nesta let him wrap her up in his arms. And when she fell, he caught her.

***

_after she fell_

            Their girl was born in the middle of autumn.

            She was a tiny thing, barely bigger than one of her father’s hand. She had the same dark hair as her father, the tan skin that he was known for and that marked her as an Illyrian. But those eyes-

            Those were her mother’s fiery eyes.

            The little one was fussy, and kept them up every night. She shrieked as loud as thunder, and had her mother’s scowl. No wings though.

            Yet.

            They loved her more than life itself.

            Their family was absolutely besotted with her, and even her little cousin, who could now walk perfectly by himself, wanted to spend all days with her.

            Cassian was watching his wife nurse that night, his heart light and brighter than it had ever been. Their little girl had been quite restless, but everytime she fed, she settled down immediately.

            Like her father, truly.

            Nesta raised her eyes to him, smiling. “Does she remind you of anyone?”

            “You,” he lovingly said.

            “Funny – I was going to say she reminds me of you,” Nesta smiled down at her daughter, touching her cheek with the tip of her finger.

            When the little one was finished nursing, she immediately fell asleep on her mother’s arms. To let Nesta have some rest, Cassian gently took his daughter into his own arms, still so fascinated with out tiny she was. How she was the perfect combination of him and his mate.

            A gift. A blessing.

            Nesta rested her head against his shoulder, both of them half lying down on the bed, half sitting.

            “We need to get her into her bed,” Nesta drawled sleepily.

            “Hmm,” Cassian said, touching his lips to his wife’s forehead. “I’ll do that in a second, sweetheart. Get some rest.”

            It was insanely difficult.

            But it was a job that neither of them would trade for anything else in the world.

            Cassian looked down at his daughter, sleeping soundly on his chest, her little hand closed around his heart. And then at his mate, already snoring softly on his shoulder. The love of his life, and now mother of his child.

            Cassian never ended up putting his baby on her bed. She slept right where she was most comfortable – hearing her father’s heartbeat.

            And when Nesta woke hours later to feed her, she found herself not at all able to wake either of them up. She watched her mate, his arms wrapped protectively over his daughter, and her little head on top of his chest, a tuft of black hair already curling in ringlets.

Everything she had done, everything she had went through…Nesta could have gone through it all again just to be here, in this moment, watching her family. If she could tell her past self that she would end up here, if she could talk to the woman who’d been weeping in that empty hallway that she’d be as happy as she was now…she would.

Nesta wouldn’t have believed it, at the time.

But now she knew it was possible.

It is always possible to find love, to find happiness, and to find yourself again. Even if you’re standing at the edge of a cliff.


End file.
